


Heart Whispers

by pyromanicofthesea



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Blood and Injury, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, I don't think heka works like this but oh well, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Smut, background scandalshipping, corruptshipping, mentions of scandalshipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28563186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyromanicofthesea/pseuds/pyromanicofthesea
Summary: In his youth, he drank the poisons of that forbidden man. In his youth, he drank the elixirs of that self-made king. Perhaps this, then, was the toxins of his past coming to fruition.Smut in chapter 2.
Relationships: Thief King Bakura/Priest Seto
Comments: 6
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KuribohIChooseYou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuribohIChooseYou/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> named tkb bakhure in this

Set didn't know what possessed him to ride out to the eastern border in the dark of night. Something deep in the pit of his stomach commanded him, like a seed of dread taking root and blooming within his core. Its vines stretched towards his heart to entrap it. He feared for the life of a man he refused to name in any company besides his solitude. In his youth, he drank the poisons of that forbidden man. In his youth, he drank the elixirs of that self-made king. Perhaps this, then, was the toxins of his past coming to fruition.

The night winds threatened to take with them his cloak and cloth. Sand whipped through the air, miniature knives trying to cut at his loyal heart. Times like these, he could hear the laughter of the damned in his ears, a memory of one summer and then another and another until shadows set them both apart. Until his Pharaoh, his god amongst mortals, captivated him like none before. Like one before. One who crept up on him like a bad dream in the dark, only ever when he was alone with his thoughts. With his past. He never wanted to wake up from the nightmare. He always awoke with the sunrise.  
  


The tomb grew visible in the distance as fear blossomed within the walls of his guts. The place felt of the dying. Not the _dead_ , the _dying_. Set spurred his horse on as fast as the beast would take him. He knew not what he would find, but he knew already he both needed to face it and was not ready to witness it.

Set leapt from his horse as he neared the tomb's entrance. The guards were dead, laying still in the sands with snapped necks and missing limbs. The flowers of fear climbed into his throat and threatened to choke away his breath. He had seen this before and it haunted him for all the wrong reasons. He feared not for the hearts of the dead guards, but for the heartbeat of their killer. His feet were swift as sand turned to stone through the entryway.

He walked the halls with careful steps, not knowing which traps were disabled and which had merely been avoided. He had seen the handiwork before. It laughed in his face, reminded him of the one crack in the foundation of his loyalty to the throne. No, not the throne. To the _Pharaoh_. Damn the throne.

A soft click echoed through the hall and Set dropped to the ground just in time to avoid an onslaught of poisoned darts, of which the antidote was nowhere near. He crawled on his belly like a lizard to move forward, knowing full well that he would be wasting time should he wait for the launching chambers to empty and reload before moving. It was nerve-wracking to know that should he lift his head too high, he would be speared and die of the subsequent convulsions. No one knew he came here. No one would know he left until sunrise, or not at all if he was quick with sating his over-active intuition.

Set climbed to his feet once he cleared the activated trap. He wondered then if his intuition had been wrong. It was only one trap though, and the one of his past - whom he could never forget - rarely disabled them all. He continued onward, avoiding traps and noting the disabled ones, until the sight before him wrenched a cry from his throat.

Speared through the stomach and hunched over on the ground sat the man of his fevered dreams himself. The one who shook the stone walls of his loyalty without being present to see the fruit of his troubles. Set felt sick to his stomach, but not at the sight of the man, instead at the sight of the man a hair's width from _death_. He ran to the man in red, the King of Thieves, and crouched beside him to check for a sign of life. The weak pulse at the man's neck buckled Set's knees from relief.

"Bakhure," he whispered like a prayer. The dying man coughed a guttural, wet cough. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth and Set wiped it away without thought.

"I told you not to call me that in public," the thief said, his voice hoarse, barely more than a stuttered inhale.

"We're not in public," Set said as tears began to well in his eyes. "We're alone. I'm going to set you free." He rose from where he knelt and could feel the eyes of the King of Thieves upon him even from under the fringed mop of silver hair. He summoned from his heart Duos, who tore through the thick stakes like a relentless storm. A sharp cry assaulted his ears as he pulled the Thief King from the broken pike. Heka enveloped his hands, which he placed over the gaping wound that tore a hole from front to back. The Thief King was limp in his arms, but his chest still rose in shuddering breaths, assuring Set that for now he lived.

He stayed like that, clutching the Thief King as if his survival was his own as well, until the Thief King seemed stable enough to move. Set still did most of the work, as the Thief King was drunk from heka and barely keeping consciousness. One step at a time, Set carried the Thief King through the halls of the tomb, destroying the active traps with Duos despite the strain of conjuring and continuing to heal the man in his arms.

Leaving was far easier, though Set hadn't wanted to ruin the traps of the tomb. It was a necessity to escape without further harm. He would issue repairs and pray those buried there would forgive him.

"Bakhure, can you climb atop my horse on your own?" Set asked in the same tone one whispered to a long-lost lover. The Thief King groaned in protest as Set moved to set him on his feet. "I need you to help me at least. Come on," he said - pleading with his heart but not his voice - as he raised the Thief King up enough to grab hold of the horse's reigns.

Bakhure pulled himself up despite the fire of pain that flooded his senses as he engaged his torn muscles. He was no stranger to pain, but the mix of numbing elation from Set's heka made for an experience he couldn't ignore. His thoughts were muddied as if he had taken blue lotus flowers from the temples again and yet the pain of his movement drove a knife through the haze. He felt Set mount the horse behind him and an arm wrap around his middle, Set's hand on the front hole of his wound, leaking heka through him to stitch his tissues back together. His body was mending slowly, angered by the jostling and staggering back from the line of death he toed so carefully before Set appeared. He didn't even know how Set knew he was there. He was certain Set saved his life though. Bakhure hated how certain he was of that.

Set rode towards the mountains, going off of memory to the last place he knew the Thief King resided. He was certain the Thief King had long since left the caverns carved into the rock formations, but regardless it would make for a base camp while he healed the man enough to make it through the night.

The Thief King stirred in his arms just as the sunrise spilled Ra's light over the sands. The hand on the Thief King's stomach was stiff and sticky from dried and half-dried blood. A patch of his linens had met the same fate, pressed like bandages to the Thief King's back and adhered to his wound as if glued to his skin.

"Do you remember the cavern you took me to, all those years ago?" Set asked.

"Stupid romantic," the Thief King barked in response, but Set knew that meant he remembered.

"Do you have a better place in mind?" he asked. He received only a grunt in response.

The cave system was not very deep, but it held many chambers, making it a good place to hide from onlookers and wanderers. Or palace huntsmen. The chambers were long abandoned, but Set expected no less. The Thief King surely left the cavern entirely after their shared night together. Were their roles reversed, he would have packed up and left the moment he could. No. Were their roles reversed, he would have killed the Thief King in his sleep after he had his fill. The Thief King hadn't killed him though. The Thief King let him awaken in his arms to the afternoon sun and Set knew in that moment he would never forget. He hadn't ever forgotten.

He held the Thief King, his back against the stony wall and the Thief King's back against his chest, as the man slept. Set wanted to join him in slumber, but he knew his time was limited. He would have to return to the palace, fabricate an excuse for disappearing, and return to the Pharaoh who beckoned his heart at every turn. He knew the moment would not last. Sleep could wait. He intended to commit holding the Thief King to memory before they returned to opposite sides.

Set carded his free fingers through the tangled locks of the Thief King's hair. Maybe in another life, they would meet and be proper lovers. Maybe they were fated to be at odds with each other. He knew his loyalty stood in the way, but he could not help the few his heart chose to love.

"Rest easy, Bakhure," Set whispered. He planted a gentle kiss on the top of the Thief King's head, careful not to rouse him from slumber.

Waking for Bakhure was slow and sluggish, the same as thoughts were in the high heat of the summer sun. His limbs responded slowly and took concentration to direct in controlled moments. The first thing he did upon waking was crane his head up to look at the priest that held him.

Set looked exhausted even as he slept. Bakhure could figure it was from healing him so continuously. He sat up and Set's hand fell to the side. It was covered in dried blood and the sight of it made Bakhure acutely aware of the fabrics clinging to his back. He moved slowly, careful not to tear any potential scabbing as he freed himself from the front of Set's tunic. He patted his back but felt no wound, only dried blood flaking off his skin. Bakhure checked his front to find the same. Set's hand print was over part of his stomach, printed in dried blood. The memories returned to him in flashing waves. The trap sprung as he disabled a different one, thick stakes shooting from the wall and spearing him against exit holes on the other side. The wood had been too heavy to push back into its chamber. Bakhure had been certain he would die there, until-

"You," he whispered under his breath as he looked back at Set, still asleep against the wall. He had half a mind to shake Set awake just to demand to know how he knew he'd be in that tomb. The longer the question went unanswered, the more Bakhure felt perhaps he didn't want to know.

He looked around, trying to discern where he was. The cavern felt familiar the same way seeing a city in one's dreams did. Had he been in this cave before?

His eyes fell on the horse near the mouth of the cave, reigns tied to a stalagmite. Bakhure approached it with caution, but the horse seemed to disregard him. The most reaction he received from the horse was a snort as he rummaged through the lone pack slung across the horse's back. Within it were dates and a water pouch. He looked back over to Set. Food was worth waking for.

"Hey priest," Bakhure said, a few dates and the water pouch in hand as he nudged Set with the toe of his shoe. "Hey, wake up."

Set groaned at the nudging, his back sore and muscles stiff from sleeping against the wall. He felt drained, exhausted through his entire being. He opened his eyes to see the King of Thieves, completely healed if rather dirty, holding out a date to him. He took the peace offering and bit into the thick skin of the sweet fruit. Despite his exhaustion, the taste elated him. He took the water pouch with even fewer reservations when it was offered to him. The water against his dry throat was like a kiss from the gods and he drank up the blessing with greed.

"I'm glad you're alright," Set said as he returned the water pouch to the Thief King.

"That was foolish of you." The glare the Thief King gave him sent shivers down his spine.

"We always knew I was a fool for you," Set retorted.

"Yet you'll never be mine," Bakhure said in a quiet, sullen voice. He shoved a date in his mouth to keep from spilling more of his heart onto the floor. He spat the pit of the date out as Set struggled to his feet.

"Bakhure," Set said, but his voice died off as he met the Thief King's eyes. A stormy type of lavender, laden with grey and longing, and Set wanted nothing more in that moment than to drown in the mystic pools of the Thief King's eyes.

He reached forward and cupped the Thief King's cheek. The King of Thieves stood there, unmoving but watching like a falcon, as Set bridged the space between them and pressed his lips to the Thief King's just as he had done years ago in the same cave. The kiss was chaste and needy in the same vein as Set moved his lips against the Thief King's, kneading the flesh split and chapped from the dry desert air. When the Thief King kissed him back, returned the pressure, Set swore his heart ascended to the heavens where he stood.

"For this moment, yours is all I am," Set whispered against Bakhure's lips. The kiss he received for it was far from the chaste press of lips he first gave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this exists because SOMEBODY wouldn't stop sending me sad corruptshipping songs and I got inspired
> 
> betaed by kevlar01
> 
> thank you for reading!! Smut chapter will be up shortly. Chose to split it in case any readers wanted the angst but not the sex


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sexy cave times

Kisses were lined down Set's neck like brandings, each wet press of lips setting his skin ablaze. He felt alight beneath the Thief King's touch. Each press of lips struck him like lightning, erupting through his sky, aiming to overwhelm him. He clung to the Thief King, his nails digging into the man's back as kisses moved from Set's neck to behind the shell of Set's ear.

"How shall I have you, speaker of the gods?" the Thief King whispered gruff in his ear, sending a full-body shiver down his spine. He hated the whine the King of Thieves pulled from deep within his chest.

"Set," he heard himself whisper back. "Let me be yours for this moment, Bakhure."

"Set," Bakhure echoed, his mind turned to jelly at the way Set pleaded to be his, to belong to him, to show the loyalty they both knew Set could never show. He kissed the priest with everything he had. He knew full well this may be the last time they meet on good terms. He was determined to make it worthwhile. He may never break Set's loyalty to the Pharaoh, but there was a sick satisfaction in knowing just maybe, when Set bedded another, it'd be his touch and his voice and his face Set craved.

He smoothed a hand up Set's thigh, under his tunic just to tease. Instead of teasing, a hand on his wrist moved his own to grasp the priest's growing erection.

"Do you truly wish for this to end so soon?" the Thief King asked with a wide grin, showing his teeth like wild dog. Set bucked into his hand as the fingers curled around his length, kissing the Thief King's neck to try and spur him on. He thought the answer obvious, but he spoke it aloud regardless.

"Bathe me in your pleasures and let me drown in their pools," Set purred out against the Thief King's bared neck. "Your touch maddens me and I crave nothing more than to lose my mind as we sate our desires together."

"You talk too much."

"Then put my mouth to better use." Set opened his mouth so his tongue peaked over the curve of his lip, giving Bakhure pleading eyes through the fringe of his brown hair. He was irresistible like that and Bakhure couldn't help slipping two of his fingers into Set's awaiting mouth.

Set sucked around the Thief King's fingers, wetting them as his tongue writhed between the digits. He bobbed his head and moaned when the Thief King met his movements to finger his mouth with languid movements. His eyes fluttered shut as a hand carded through his hair, petting him with a loving touch. It was actions like those that corrupted his heart in the first place. It was such a simple gesture to card one's fingers through another's hair, but from the Thief King, the action became so much more.

He could feel himself relax into the Thief King's touch, the gentle petting and rhythmic movements of the Thief King's fingers luring him into a sense of tranquillity. He should not be lowering his guard, he knew this, but he made up his mind when he left the palace in the middle of the night to chase an anxiety growing in his gut. For the time being, he belonged to the Thief King.

Bakhure removed his fingers from Set's mouth and kissed him as if compelled by the gods. He felt tongue against his lips and pressed back, meeting Set's with a passion they could only share with each other.

It frightened him, how close Set had gotten to him, the one exception to his lone journey. His head told him to go, kill him, weaken the throne by removing one of if not the most talented priests they had. His heart, though, said let him go. Kiss him and hold him and for just the moment give him enough passion to last a lifetime, because who knew when he would have the opportunity again. If he would have the opportunity again.

"Set," he breathed against the priest's lips. He dove in to claim Set's lips once more, and again, and again, holding his breath more than taking air in through his nose, wanting every moment he could get.

A low rumble of a groan reverberated through Set's chest as Bakhure took the man's length in had once more, stroking it with purposeful intent instead of to tease. He smeared the precum that leaked from Set's tip around the head of his member, pulling another groan from the man as he resumed his steady pumping of Set's cock.

"Oh _Bakhure_ ," Set moaned out, pulling the Thief King closer and clinging to his bare shoulders. The Thief King twisted his fist on a particularly strong down-stroke and Set dug his nails into the meat of the thief's shoulders, raking them down over his shoulder blades and pulling a moan from the thief.

His hands fumbled with the sash that kept the Thief King's shendyt in place, clawing at it more than unwrapping it. The Thief King showed mercy and unwrapped his shendyt himself, letting the fabric drop to the ground, revealing his own thick leaking erection. Set pulled the Thief King by his hips and ground against him, their cocks rubbing against each other to bring about their mutual pleasure. Set found the sound of their cries together to be music even the most talented musicians could not dream of replicating.

"Let me have you, Bakhure," Set whispered, a plea to drown in the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him the longer he stayed with the thief. He moved to kneel, and the Thief King let him, gripping his hair firm but guiding him with a gentle tug toward the thief's awaiting cock. Set gave an experimental lick, and then another when a hiss fell from the Thief King's lips. He licked and kissed the Thief King's length, sucking more than necessary at his tip just to tease before kissing back down and dragging his tongue along, down to lap at the Thief King's balls.

Bakhure's head was swimming in pleasure and need. He wanted Set to get on with it, but didn't want to leave the balanced line of coiled pleasure he found himself on. Set was doing such a good job stoking the fires of his building orgasm that Bakhure was sure if Set wanted to be especially cruel, he could hold Bakhure there in the warmth of pleasure and the frustration of unsatiated desire for hours.

"Set," Bakhure whispered like a prayer as he carded his fingers through Set's hair, admiring the sight of the priest on his knees before him. Maybe it was a prayer to whatever god had yet to turn against him, to let him have this moment again despite knowing this moment was not meant to happen to begin with.

He cried out when Set finally took the head of his cock into his mouth. He braced himself against the cavern wall with his free hand, curling over Set as the man took him in deeper. Set's hand wrapped around what his mouth didn't hold and Bakhure never wanted to forget the sight of the man kneeling before him, looking up at him with eyes that shown with admiration. Shown with devotion. For just a moment, Bakhure could have convinced himself Set would choose him over the throne. He knew better to kid himself though.

"Just like that, Set, oh don't stop," Bakhure moaned as Set swirled his tongue around Bakhure's cockhead and gave a hard suck before going back down. Bakhure could feel muscles coil, tightening in tension as his orgasm built.

"Set- I- Oh-!" Bakhure felt a wave of pleasure wash over him like the tide, carrying him out to sea and never to return as he spilt down Set's throat. A shiver shook through his spine as he felt Set swallow around him before the man sat back, letting his cock fall from Set's lips.

"Just as good as I remember," Set said with a satisfied grin and half-lidded eyes as he peered up at the King of Thieves.

Bakhure huffed out a laugh, but he didn't move until he regained feeling in his toes. On shaky legs, he grabbed the fabric that made up his shendyt and pulled it over to sit upon. He beckoned Set over, who crawled over and sat in Bakhure's lap. Bakhure gently rubbed Set's reddened knees, trying his best to ease what he knew must be sore intents from the stony cavern floor.

"You've been so good to me, Set," he purred as he looked up to meet Set's eyes. "Tell me what you want me to do. I'll give you anything."

Set grabbed the Thief King's hand and pulled it to his weeping cock. "Please," he whispered, as if the word were a deeply forbidden curse poisoning his lips. As if the kiss of the King of Thieves was not poison enough for him.

Bakhure wrapped his hand around Set's shaft without needing further instructions and Set sighed as he relaxed under Bakhure's touch. Bakhure leaned up and claimed Set's lips in a kiss as he pulled gasps and moans from Set with every touch he gave.

"Look at you," Bakhure purred, a low rumbling growl vibrating deep within his chest as Set panted against him. "Undone by the King of Thieves. I wonder how long you can keep away from me this time, until you wander your way back to me, back to your true heart."

"Bakhure!" Set closed his eyes as he came in the Thief King's hand, only half-aware of the words being said to him. He took a deep breath in an attempt to steady his breathing. His mind was a soft haze, like sunlight bleeding through the gap between curtains in the morning, and he sought the Thief King's lips once more. The kiss they shared held the same passion as the heated kisses of their love-making, but buried beneath that laid emotions neither man were able to bring themselves to address.

Bakhure rested his forehead against Set's and for a moment time did not march on. For just a moment, he sat with the man who in dreams he called his lover, at peace with the life that carried on outside the abandoned hideaway.


End file.
